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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138317">Carry On My Prodigal Son, But Mostly Fluffy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinny_555/pseuds/Quinny_555'>Quinny_555</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry On My Prodigal Son [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019), Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ainsley Whitly is a Good Sister, Amusement Parks, Backstory, Ballet, Brunch, Dancing, Dean Winchester Can Apologize, Fluff, Good Parent Gil Arroyo, Hair Braiding, Ice Skating, M/M, Malcolm Bright is a Good Boyfriend, Malcolm Bright is an Adrenaline Junky, Nightmares, POV Dean Winchester, POV Outsider, Protective Sunshine, Sam Winchester Has Nightmares, Sam Winchester is So Done, it's a miracle, they are just so sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:47:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,903</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinny_555/pseuds/Quinny_555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of mostly fluffy one-shots featuring Sam and Malcolm being cute. I love receiving prompts if you have them!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ainsley Whitly &amp; Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester &amp; Malcolm Bright, Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester, Malcolm Bright &amp; Sam Winchester, Malcolm Bright &amp; Sunshine the Bird, Malcolm Bright/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester &amp; Sunshine the Bird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry On My Prodigal Son [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>141</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Bit Overdue for a Trim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“How do you keep your hair so soft?” Malcolm asked. Sam looked up from where he was sitting on the floor in front of the couch. He was reading a book on Goblin lore and Malcolm was watching the news. He kept the sound low. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I spend a lot of money on hair products,” he replied, only half-joking. Malcolm chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Money well spent,” he said, continuing to run his fingers through Sam’s hair. Sam melted into the affectionate touch but squirmed slightly, trying to turn around, when he felt Malcolm tugging on the strands. “Stop fussing, I’m just braiding your hair.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? It's not long enough for that,” Sam said but held still regardless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't know, Sam, you're a bit overdue for a trim,” Malcolm teased lightly. Sam huffed and Malcolm kissed the top of his head. It was true that it was too short for one regular braid, but two french braids? It was definitely long enough for that. When he finished the first one he pulled out the spare elastic that he always kept in his pocket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you just keep hair ties on you?” Sam asked, brows furrowing. Malcolm’s hair definitely wasn't long enough to warrant that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Malcolm answered easily as he moved on to the next braid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there… a reason?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's the same reason that I know how to french braid. When my sister was little she never wanted her hair to be touched by anyone but me or my mother. My mother was a busy woman, and it was good for me to learn new skills. To, you know, cope. She also never carried them with her and would complain when she didn't have any, so I just made a habit of keeping them with me. Said habit followed me into adulthood.” he shrugged like it was something any brother would do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That's sweet,” Sam commented. It sounded like something Dean would do for him. Malcolm’s face warmed slightly at the praise, and he shrugged. He finished braiding and tilted Sam’s head back to kiss his forehead. Sam smiled and turned to face Malcolm fully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do they feel okay?” Malcolm asked. “Not too tight?” Sam ran his calloused fingers over the ridges of the braid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, they’re perfect.” Malcolm’s face lit up. Sam never wanted that smile to go away. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Brunch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I'll be back soon,” Malcolm said, kissing Sam’s cheek on the way out the door. Sam chuckled as he watched the smaller man practically sprint out the door. He figured that he should also probably get to work. When he was visiting Malcolm Sam consulted on other hunters cases for them, researching and giving advice. Bobby passed off cases that he was too swamped to deal with himself, and Sam was happy to help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was just pulling out his computer when he heard the front door open. He froze. Malcolm never got back this fast unless he forgot something, and Sam checked that he hadn't. The sound of heels stomping up the stairs followed and Sam worried that it was going to be Malcolm’s mother. It’s not that he didn't like Jessica, he just preferred not to interact with her unless Malcolm was there to mediate. He was only partially relieved when the head that appeared over the banister was blonde. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mal, could you please explain why mom-” she was looking at her phone as she came up the stairs, but paused when she saw Sam. She looked around. No Malcolm in sight. “Who are you and what are you doing in my brother’s loft?” she demanded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, hi,” Sam said, waving. “I’m Sam.” her eyes widened as she put two and two together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! You're Malcolm’s new boyfriend,” she said, grinning at him. She walked briskly toward him and shook his hand. She had a firm grip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said. “He just left, actually. He said he’ll be back soon, but your best bet would probably be checking the station.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He left for work?” she clarified. She hummed at his nod. “In that case, would you like to go to brunch?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brunch?” Sam asked incredulously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm sure that Malcolm wouldn't mind me stealing you for a while, and it would be on me, of course,” she said. He didn't want to be rude, and it couldn't hurt… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” he said. He figured that he was going to regret agreeing to this based on the mischievous glint in her eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” she said and all but dragged him out the door. Oh yeah, he was going to regret this. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Short and sweet :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Nightmares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Despite having many nightmares himself, Malcolm was not very experienced with helping others through theirs. Malcolm agreed to sleep in the same bed as Sam on the basis that Sam could subdue him easily. He never shared a bed with partners who he thought could get hurt if they didn't deal with his night terrors properly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't,” he heard, the quiet sound cutting through his light sleep. His eyes shot open to see Sam struggling in his sleep. “I'm sorry, not her-” he cut himself off, his breath hitching with a sob. Malcolm carefully laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder, aware that you were not supposed to touch someone while they were dreaming, yet not caring enough to refrain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam,” he said. Sam jolted awake, sitting up with a gasp. He stared at Malcolm for a moment, like he was surprised to see him there. He seemed to come back to himself and quickly scrubbed the tears off of his cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did, uh, did I wake you? Sorry,” he said quickly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, it's fine, I wasn't asleep anyway,” Malcolm lied, pulling Sam closer to him. Neither of them said anything else, Sam just letting Malcolm hold him. Malcolm started humming quietly. It was an old Beatles song, one that Sam had hummed while bringing him back from a panic attack. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Jude,</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he remembered correctly. Eventually, Sam fell back into a fitful sleep. Malcolm stayed awake for what was left of the night, ready to wake Sam back up if he showed any signs of distress. He slept better than he had in years when he was with Sam, he was just returning the favor. He, of course, pretended to be asleep when Sam woke up the next morning. But his boyfriend didn't have to know that. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>School has officially been canceled for the next two weeks :/</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Amusement Park</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You're seriously telling me that you have never been to an amusement park,” Sam said, sounding absolutely baffled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mother hates amusement parks. She maintains that they are filthy and a breeding ground for sickness. She also has doubts about the dependability of the rides.” Malcolm said it like it wasn't a big deal. Sam stood and Malcolm watched the movement curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I guess that we will just have to go ourselves,” Sam declared. Malcolm laughed nervously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I don't think so,” he said, but Sam was already grabbing his jacket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon,” Sam pleaded, turning his puppy dog eyes on the smaller man. Malcolm was proud to say that he held up for a whole five seconds. He finally sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” he grumbled. “But I'm only doing this because you cheat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While it was an uphill battle, he got Malcolm to wear jeans instead of his usual suit and tie. It was too hot out for that anyway. Malcolms eyes widened when he saw just how big the rides were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're telling me that we go </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the way up there</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Malcolm demanded when he saw The Scream. Sam, for his part, was vibrating with excitement. They started off simple, with the most basic wooden coaster they could find. Malcolm was surprised to find that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. It shouldn't have been much of a shock; he was definitely an adrenaline junky, though he wouldn't admit it. Malcolm disliked the spinning rides, but the fast and tall ones were his favorites. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we should go on the ferris wheel before we leave,” Sam suggested as they walked around the park. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Malcolm said, up for anything right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn't sure how he felt about how slow the ride was, but the view was beautiful. He held Sam’s hand as he stared out across the park. The sun was setting and it cast an orange glow on their surroundings. He glanced at Sam, whose eyes looked golden in this light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for making me do this,” he said, leaning into his boyfriend’s side. Sam brought his arm up around him as he shivered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, what else are boyfriends for?” he grinned at Malcolm. The ride reached the top of the wheel and stopped, allowing them to admire the view. He leaned up and caught Sam’s lips, who leaned down slightly to accommodate their height difference. They broke apart as the ride began moving again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that, for one,” Malcolm said breathlessly. Sam laughed, pulling Malcolm closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Mal,” he said affectionately. Malcolm leaned his head on Sam’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too, Moose,” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice when he said ‘moose’. Sam smiled at the reference to their first meeting and pulled Malcolm back in for another kiss.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Sunshine On a Cloudy Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sunshine was a very chatty bird. She loved to sing, a love which was only encouraged when Malcolm hummed along. Another fun fact about sunshine was that she was very protective of Malcolm. Malcolm himself didn't notice it much, which Sam was sure was intentional on her part, but the little bird wasn't Sam’s biggest fan at first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malcolm was usually pretty good about not falling asleep without his restraints. But the case he had just gotten off of had been very long, and he thought he could stay awake as he waited up for his boyfriend. But eventually sleep dragged him under as it always, inevitably, did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Sam got there he wasn't particularly surprised to see Malcolm asleep on the couch; he did that sometimes, when he knew Sam would get there late. What was a surprise was Sunshine perched on Malcolm’s shoulder, staring Sam down. Malcolm obviously hadn't intended to fall asleep and had left her cage open and uncovered. She chirped loudly when Sam moved to wake Malcolm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Sunshine,” Sam whispered to the bird. “We’ve got to get him to bed.” he tried, hoping against hope that the bird would relent. She did not. He moved to wake his boyfriend again and she nipped his fingers, an obvious warning. He narrowed his eyes, disbelieving that this bird was going to best him. He tried again and she bit him hard. He reared back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he hissed, checking to see if he was bleeding. He definitely was. Shit. The commotion woke Malcolm, who looked blearily up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam?” he asked and Sam quickly hid his bleeding finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he whispered. “Why don't you go to bed. I'll join you soon.” Malcolm frowned at him for a moment before nodding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don't take too long, m'kay?” he muttered as he stood. Sam noticed that Sunshine was back in her cage, acting as though she hadn't just bit him. He could not believe the audacity. When he came out of the bathroom he was relieved to see that her cage was shut and covered for the night. He figured that the bandaid on his finger would be inconspicuous enough to avoid notice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to your finger?” Malcolm asked the next day at breakfast. So, not so inconspicuous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, just a paper cut,” he said offhandedly. He was relieved that Malcolm didn't ask for any details on that. Having a rivalry with his boyfriend's tiny parakeet was a little bit embarrassing. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tattoo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Malcolm gets a tattoo (outsider POV).</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What did you have in mind?” Josh asked as he pulled out his design book. The customer in front of him looked like the prissy, stuck up type. His suit was obviously expensive and he was here in the middle of a workday, so he probably had money. Not that Josh minded that; it was just something he would keep in mind. </p><p>“I actually have something specific,” the guy, Malcolm, said upon seeing him reach for the design book. He reached into his pocket and produced a piece of paper. “Here.” Josh raised his eyebrows when he unfolded the paper. He tried not to look too judgy, but… did this guy really want this? </p><p>“Are, uh, are you sure this is the one you want?” he asked, glancing up at him. The guy didn't look like any hunter he had met.  </p><p>“Positive,” he said. Josh looked back down at the anti-possession tattoo and shrugged. </p><p>“Alright,” he said. Before he could lead the guy to the back a large man ducked into the shop, eyes locking on Malcolm. </p><p>“Mal,” he said as he strode across the shop. Malcolm turned and grinned. </p><p>“Hey, you made it!” he said. “We’re just about to get started.” </p><p>“I told you I would,” the larger man said, slinging an arm around Malcolm’s shoulders. <em> Ah, </em> Josh thought, <em> now </em> this <em> guy looks like a hunter.  </em></p><p>“Follow me,” Josh said, leading them to the back. The larger man, (Sam, he had learned), held Malcolm’s hand the whole time. Malcolm said it was his first tattoo, but Josh was surprised how little he reacted to the pain. Most people at least jumped when he started, but it looked like Malcolm couldn't feel it at all. Sam said something too low for Josh to hear and Malcolm rolled his eyes. </p><p>“Shut it, Winchester,” he said playfully. Josh paused. Was this guy <em>the </em>Sam Winchester? He and his brother were legends in the hunting community. They were also, if rumor was to be believed, fucking crazy; then again, if rumor was to be believed, they had good reason to be. So maybe he was fangirling a little, but he managed to keep his cool until they finished their transaction. As soon as the couple was out the door he let his eyes bleed to black as he relaxed. </p><p>“Holy shit,” he muttered, still not quite believing that he just met Sam Winchester without being sent back to Hell.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, this one's not particularly fluffy, but it's too short to be its own story and it fits well enough :).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. It's a Start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dean and Malcolm come to have a better understanding of one another.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written for ProcrastinatingSab :).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean paced around the motel room, muttering under his breath. He knew that he should probably calm down and go find Sam, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>goddamnit. Sam had stormed out a while ago, slamming the door on his way out in his frustration, but Dean figured he should be back by now. Usually, all it took was a walk around the block to calm Sam down, but it had been well over half an hour since he had left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, okay,” he muttered and pulled out his phone. He dialed Sam's number and cursed again when it went to voicemail. Driving around the neighborhood in the Impala was also a useless endeavor. He got back to the motel room and sat on the bed, contemplating what he should do next. He realized that they were in Jersey; Sam could have easily stolen a car and made it to his boyfriend’s within a few hours. That prompted a call to Malcolm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You are aware it’s one in the morning, right?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Malcolm said without preamble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, of course,” he said, a little affronted at Malcolm’s tactless greeting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just checking,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he muttered and Dean snorted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I also knew you’d be awake,” he continued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“So this is a social call?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, no, but…” he sighed. “Look, have you heard from Sam? We had a, uh, a disagreement. He left and I thought that he might drop by your place.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, but he doesn't always call ahead before he stops by,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Malcolm said, sounding much more awake now. Honestly, Dean felt a little bad about waking him if he had actually been sleeping, but he wouldn't admit that to him.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, well… tell me if you see him?” Dean requested awkwardly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure,” Malcolm said. The line went dead and Dean sighed in relief. That had gone better than he expected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean got a call late that night (rather, early that morning) from Malcolm. It didn't wake him, per se, but it pulled him out of his worry fueled daze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, he got here a few minutes ago. He's in the bathroom, but I don't think he would like that I'm calling you. Why is he upset?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Malcolm spoke quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should ask him,” Dean said tersely. He wasn't sure why he was being so defensive; maybe it was the guilt that he was avoiding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I asked </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but fine,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Malcolm snapped and hung up. Dean blinked at Malcolm’s sudden dismissal. He had subconsciously grown accustomed to Malcolm taking on a very passive role in their conversations; he must've really pissed the younger man off if he was breaking his usual habits. Naturally, he suppressed the guilt that came with upsetting Sam’s boyfriend more than usual. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn't even sure what he was doing when he knocked on Malcolm’s door the next morning. Just that it was… something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Who is it?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Malcolm’s voice came over the little speaker next to the buzzer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's me. Uh, Dean,” he responded. He half expected Malcolm to tell him to leave or just not open the door. He was a little startled when the door opened to reveal Malcolm standing in the doorway. He looked like Hell; it looked like someone had tried to strangle him recently and there were dark bags under his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam’s sleeping,” Malcolm said, voice sounding rougher than usual. “Even if he was awake, I'm not sure he’d want to see you right now. I'm not sure what happened, but he was pretty distraught when he got here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm, well, I'm not actually here to see him.” Dean shuffled his feet slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why…” Malcolm gestured vaguely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I figured that if Sam came all the way here to avoid me, I should leave him be for now. But… I wanted to apologize to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” Malcolm asked blankly, clearly not expecting an apology. “Why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You went out of your way to let me know what was happening with Sam last night, even though you knew he wouldn't want you to, and I was rude to you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry.” he wanted to avoid a chick flick moment if possible, and the whole thing was embarrassing, but the look on Malcolm’s face made it worth it.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you came all the way here to tell me that?” he asked, sounding like he didn't quite believe it. Dean nodded. “You’re not so bad, Winchester,” Malcolm said. He swallowed and winced slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” Dean asked, gesturing to bruising on Malcolm’s neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Suspect didn't appreciate my invasive questions,” Malcolm muttered with a grimace. The answer was vague and he was sure there was more to the story, but he supposed that at least he got an answer.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, well, I'll see ya,” Dean said. Malcolm nodded and shut the door. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That went better than expected, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean pondered as he got back into the Impala. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay, what in the actual FUCK is up with Eve's sister???? What???? Is going on there???? And Jessica's new boi???? And Gil and Jess?????? The implications of the 1x19 preview?????  I took 300 points psychic damage just from watching 1x18. Also, I love that Malcolm took ballet, that's so in character tbh.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Winchester Gospel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“What’s that?” he heard Sam ask from behind him. He was so enraptured by the story that he hadn't even heard him approach. Malcolm bolted to his feet to face Sam, who was now eyeing the book behind his back suspiciously. </p>
<p>“Nothing,” Malcolm said a little too quickly.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For DestielIsOTP</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Malcolm hadn't been looking for it. Really, he hadn't. Ainsley just happened to be ranting to him about her new favorite book series and how it abruptly ends after one of the main characters is dragged to Hell. It sounded interesting, so he decided to check it out. He hadn't been expecting it to be a book written about his boyfriend’s life. But after the first chapter, he was hooked. Sure, the writing itself wasn't great, but there was just something about it… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?” he heard Sam ask from behind him. He was so enraptured by the story that he hadn't even heard him approach. Malcolm bolted to his feet to face Sam, who was now eyeing the book behind his back suspiciously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Malcolm said a little too quickly. Sam narrowed his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously not nothing,” Sam said. “Or else you wouldn't be hiding it from me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malcolm saw the exact moment Sam decided that he was going to see what Malcolm had behind his back, whether he wanted him to or not. They moved at the same time, Malcolm running around the couch and Sam jumping over it all together. This resulted in a chase, which Sam inevitably won. Malcolm giggled from where he was pinned under Sam, who was trying to grab the book from Malcolm’s stubborn grip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not fair, Winchester,” Malcolm panted, wrestling the book away from Sam as far as he could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is that not fair?” Sam asked, grinning down at Malcolm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your legs are like nine miles long!” Malcolm exclaimed. Sam opened his mouth to respond, something that would likely be a jab at Malcolm’s height, when Malcolm hooked a leg under Sam’s and rolled them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you're not exactly slow,” Sam pointed out. He leaned up and kissed Malcolm, who smiled and leaned into it. Sam’s arm shot out and grabbed the book, holding it up victoriously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that's just mean,” Malcolm said, sitting back so that Sam could get up. Sam sat up, looking at the book in his hands. He groaned when he realized what it was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you serious,” he muttered. “Where did you even find this?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ains referred it to me,” he said sheepishly. “It’s actually-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you tell me that it's actually good I swear that I will be sleeping on the couch tonight,” Sam interrupted. Malcolm chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, fine,” he said, putting his hands up. “I'll stop reading them if you want.” That made Sam pause. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” he asked, looking equal parts surprised and skeptical. Malcolm reached out and grabbed his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. You're more important to me than some books,” Malcolm said, grinning goofily at him. “But just so you know, I will be asking questions instead, like was your hair really as short as the author describes?” Sam barked a surprised laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it was,” he said. Malcolm shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just can't see it,” Malcolm mused, “Maybe some photographs would help?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Sam said, but Malcolm was looking at him with his puppy dog eyes, and he suddenly wondered if this was how Dean felt when Sam would do this. He sighed. “Fine.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Tattoo Makes a Re-Appearance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Malcolm stumbled back as his attacker swung at him, effectively dodging the blow. Unfortunately, he was unable to completely avoid the knife, which caught him in the shoulder. He hissed and returned the blow with one of his own. She was fast and he only clipped her, but it was enough to give him some distance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“NYPD, show us your hands!” Dani yelled from behind him. His assailant seemed to assess her options for a moment before dropping the bloodied knife and putting her hands up. Malcolm sighed and leaned against the wall behind him. He winced at the contact and suddenly Dani was in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for the rescue,” he said. She frowned at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bright, you're bleeding,” she said. He chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said despite the fact that it was obviously a deep wound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me look at it,” she said, reaching to unbutton his shirt. He moved out of reach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With your freezing hands? No thank you,” he said playfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bright,” she warned, and he considered his options. He really was starting to lose a lot of blood. He sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” he muttered and she moved forward to unbutton his shirt. She pulled it off his shoulders and winced in sympathy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s definitely going to need stitches,” she commented. As she tied a piece of his sleeve around the wound to stem the bleeding she noticed something on his other arm. “Oh my God Bright, is that a tattoo?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” he shrugged. “Yes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a tattoo? Since when?” Gil asked as he approached. Malcolm floundered for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since… a few months ago?” that was lowballing it, but whatever. Dani was openly staring at it, and Malcolm began to feel a little defensive. “What’s wrong with it? Lots of people have tattoos.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Dani said quickly. “It just doesn't seem like something you would be interested in. At least, not one like this. Why this, uh, symbol?” Malcolm thought for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It symbolizes protection,” he finally settled on. It was true enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure need it,” Dani teased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No kidding,” Malcolm muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're kidding,” JT said disbelievingly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not even a little,” Dani said. “It wasn't even a small one either, it took up like his whole shoulder.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no way Bright has a tattoo.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Dani said, “Ask him yourself.” She nodded at Malcolm, who was approaching them with a cardboard tray containing three coffees and a smoothie. He poked his head into Gil’s office and handed him one of the cups before moving on to the detectives. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For Dani, a plain black coffee,” he said, handing her the drink and two sugar packets. “For JT, a caramel frappuccino,” he handed the drink to JT, who pointed his straw at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have a tattoo?” he demanded. Malcolm groaned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he muttered. “But I wish that Dani could keep a secret.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn't know it was a secret,” she said, shrugging. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's not really,” Malcolm said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show me.” JT nodded at his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At least buy me dinner first,” Malcolm said in mock offense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon,” JT nudged him. Malcolm muttered something under his breath and pursed his lips. He suddenly grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” he said and pulled off his suit jacket. JT blinked, clearly not expecting Malcolm to start stripping in the middle of the station. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” JT demanded after a few moments of stunned silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wanted to see it, I'm showing you,” he responded as though he wasn't stripping down in front of the whole police station. He could hear Dani choking on her coffee behind him, and people were starting to stare. He unbuttoned his shirt and slid his sleeve to the side, showing JT the occult symbol. JT just stared, opening and closing his mouth a few times. By the time he felt able to form an intelligent sentence, Malcolm was already re-tying his tie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did-” he paused, “Did you actually just do that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure did,” Malcolm said, pulling his suit jacket back on. JT just shook his head. Malcolm Bright was seriously insane. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Stitches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is not really fluffy, but whatever.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam hissed and held his side more firmly as Dean pulled up in front of Malcolm’s building. Dean got out and walked around to Sam’s side of the car, helping him stand. While they were both injured, Sam got the worst of it, and according to the unspoken Winchester Rules the less injured Winchester was responsible for helping the more injured one. They got to the door and Dean raised his fist to knock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” Sam said as he fumbled in his pocket. Dean paused. “If he’s sleeping I don't want to wake him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever, just hurry. You think you’d be lighter with all the salads you eat,” he muttered as Sam located the key. A muffled scream came from inside the loft and Dean’s eyes widened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam-” he started, urgency clear in his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just a nightmare,” Sam said as he unlocked the door. He made sure to open it loudly so that Malcolm knew they were there. “Mal, we’re here!” Sam called as they approached the top of the stairs. Malcolm looked up from where he sat on the edge of the bed. He was running a shaky hand through his hair and his eyes widened when he saw the brothers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy fuck, what happened to you two?” he blurted, voice quivering slightly. “You know what? Stupid question, lets just,” he herded them toward the couch. “Alexa, turn the lights on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your boyfriend’s that type of rich, huh,” Dean muttered as the lights turned on. Sam made a bitchface at him. Dean stood to tell Malcolm what type of supplies they would need, but Malcolm was already coming back with an emergency kit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sit down, you look like Hell,” Malcolm said when he saw Dean standing. Dean was a little affronted but did as he was bid. He set the kit down on the coffee table and opened it. The kit contained pretty much everything you could need during a medical emergency. He turned to smile at Sam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I need to assess your injuries, so I'm going to undress you,” Malcolm said and Sam nodded, head lolling to the side. Malcolm pulled a pair of shears out of the kit and cut away Sam’s bloody shirt. Sam grunted as the fabric pulled away from the tacky blood sticking it to the wound. Malcolm winced at the large slash across his abdomen. Sam glanced at him with concerned eyes and Malcolm smiled back. “It's not even bad,” he reassured despite the fact that it was, “I'll stitch you up and you’ll be fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what you're doing, kid?” Dean muttered. Malcolm nodded without looking at the older man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you grab me a rag and hot water?” Malcolm asked Dean, who went to fetch the requested items. He could hear Malcolm talking to Sam in the same calm, friendly voice as he grabbed the rag and water. When he returned Malcolm washed the area around the wound before grabbing peroxide. “Okay, this is going to hurt,” Malcolm said a moment before he poured the disinfectant on the wound. Sam shouted briefly before going quiet again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will the neighbors be worried?” Dean asked. Malcolm snorted as he grabbed latex gloves and sutures. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I scream louder than that every night, so the building is pretty soundproof,” he said and paused before he started the stitches. He looked at Dean critically. “How badly are you hurt?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just some scrapes and bruises,” Dean said. After assessing him for a moment longer Malcolm nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don't you take a shower? This might take a while and you are covered in… whatever that is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I actually wanted to make sure that you know what you're doing before I leave,” Dean said bluntly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose that’s fair,” Malcolm replied and started on the stitches. After the third stitch, Dean felt comfortable enough to leave and take a shower. It was probably the best shower he had in his life. The water pressure was unreal and the hot water never ran out. Truly magical. By the time he got out Sam and Malcolm were passed out on the couch, all of Sam’s wounds taken care of. Looking at them, Dean thought that Malcolm wouldn't make such a bad brother in law. Not that he would ever tell him that, of course. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Jessica's Thoughts on Sam and Malcolm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jessica thinks on Sam and Malcolm's relationship.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Did y'all know that Bellamy Young (Jessica) had a very short-lived role on Supernatural in season 5? She was the ghost of Nick’s murdered wife. Well, I guess she technically played Lucifer, but she was in the form of Nick's dead wife. I was re-watching and I saw her and I was like :0</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Sam! I'm so glad you could come!” Jessica heard Ainsley say from the foyer. Sam laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course! I'm glad to be here,” he responded, followed by, “Oh, I can take my own coat. I-it’s really fine, uh, okay.” Jessica chuckled to herself. Her housekeeper always offered to take his coat, he told her he could do it, and she would take it from him anyway. Ainsley appeared in the doorway, dragging the young man behind her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Sam’s here!” Ainsley said as though Jessica couldn't see him towering over her smaller frame. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Sam,” she said, standing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi M- I mean, Jessica,” he said. She stepped forward to greet him with a hug, resisting the urge to laugh when he had to bend almost in half to accommodate the height difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, sit,” she said, looking around the room. “Where’s Malcolm?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He had to wrap something up at the station, but he said he’ll be here soon,” Sam said quickly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’d better be,” Ainsley muttered. Jessica ignored that comment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you drink, Sam?” she asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He doesn't,” Malcolm interrupted from where he stood in the doorway. Jessica whipped around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malcolm,” she said fondly before she remembered that she was mad at him. “Glad you decided to show up,” she added on.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, mother, I wouldn't miss it,” he said. She just hummed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure you wouldn't,” she said. She knew that she was being petty, but she was still angry about the last time he had ditched out on her. Besides, she was rich; she could afford to be petty. “Ah, dinner should be about done by now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They moved to the dining room. Malcolm and Sam sat side by side, holding hands under the table and talking quietly to each other. Watching them together was nice; It was clear that Malcolm loved him. Jessica could see why. He was sweet, and he wasn't exactly lacking in the looks department. He wasn't rich and he had no family background, but Jessica couldn't judge him too much for that. She hadn't married for money, how could she expect Malcolm to? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, look at how well that turned out for you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a nasty voice in the back of her head hissed. She shook the thought off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How have things been in the studio, Ains?” Sam asked as the staff brought out their soup. Ainsley grinned and began to rant about the ups and downs of reporting from the studio. Sam listened intently, actively engaging in her story. Jessica was glad that someone would listen to her daughter; she loved Ainsley, but she also knew that neither Malcolm nor herself were the best listeners. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watched Malcolm look lovingly at his boyfriend and couldn't stop a small smile from spreading over her face. It was a relief to know that Malcolm had found someone so patient. He was exhausting to keep up with, but Sam seemed to barely even notice that. Sam looked over, catching Malcolm’s gaze just to smile at him. Malcolm lit up at the attention. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh yes, they are certainly quite a match</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought as she took another sip of her wine. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Never? Like... ever??</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Malcolm is a rich boi and Sam tries a fun, albeit challenging activity.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! I feel like I've been gone for ten thousand years, but whatever. Have a new chapter :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Never?” Malcolm asked disbelievingly. Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the look on his boyfriend’s face.  </p><p>“Never,” he confirmed. Malcolm shook his head. </p><p>“That has to change right now,” he insisted. Sam snorted. </p><p>“I’m not exactly the most graceful person, Mal,” Sam pointed out. “And besides, I’m enjoying this.” He gestured to the T.V. screen they were watching the Olympics on. The couple on the ice locked themselves together in a firm embrace and spun at a rate that made Sam dizzy from just watching. Malcolm paused from where he stood beside Sam before he sighed, lowering himself back onto the couch and resituating himself in Sam’s arms. </p><p>“Still, you got me to go to an amusement park.” He lifted his chin. “I think it’s my turn to make you do something new.” Sam hummed in thought. He already knew his answer, though; he could never say no to something Malcolm was so excited about. </p><p>Sam knew that his first attempt at ice skating would be embarrassing. There was no way it wouldn't be; nobody was good at this kind of thing on the first try. However, he hadn't expected it to be just him and Malcolm. </p><p>“How did you even…” Sam let himself trail off, staring with wide eyes at the empty ice rink. It wasn't even a small one, either. It was a Friday night which meant that they should, by all accounts, be surrounded by people. </p><p>“I rented it out for the night,” was Malcolm’s easy reply. Sam often forgot that his boyfriend was, for lack of a better term, filthy rich. Malcolm took Sam’s hand and pulled him to a bench near the rink. Once Sam was sitting Malcolm began unlacing his boot.</p><p>“Y-you don't have to-” Sam started but paused when Malcolm smiled up at him. </p><p>“I want to.” Sam just blinked as Malcolm went back to his self-assigned task. He let him lace a pair of <strike>deadly blades</strike> ice skates onto his feet. Sam wobbled as he stood but soon gained his balance. Malcolm grinned back at him once more before he pulled him onto the ice. </p><p>Malcolm tightened his grip on Sam’s hand when the larger man’s feet made contact with the ice. They slid toward the center of the rink as Sam steadied himself. </p><p>“You just move one foot to the side like this-” Malcolm demonstrated, “-and keep your knees bent. Not too much, but- yes, that’s perfect!” He grinned as Sam practiced the technique. </p><p>“This is, well, not as bad as I thought,” Sam said, smiling back at Malcolm. </p><p>“Yeah, no, you're doing great,” Malcolm encouraged. Sam’s tongue stuck out from between his lips slightly as he concentrated on not falling over. Malcolm thought it was absolutely endearing, but didn't say so for the fear that Sam would stop if he pointed it out. </p><p>While Sam wasn't a master ice skater by the end of the night, he was definitely better than either of them expected him to be. Malcolm himself might have shown off a few of the more advanced moves he knew, but, well, nobody but Sam had to know that. And maybe both of them found themselves wanting to return sooner rather than later- even if Sam’s ankles hurt like a bitch by the time they got home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. ... A Smoothie?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Malcolm fiddled with the lid of his smoothie cup as he walked into work that morning. He was aware that he had a habit of using… </span>
  <em>
    <span>expressive</span>
  </em>
  <span> body language and that a loose lid was just tempting fate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bright-” Malcolm looked up at Gil’s greeting with a smile. Gil paused, narrowing his eyes. “Whatcha got there?” he asked slowly, gesturing vaguely. Malcolm considered the question for a moment. He lifted the straw to his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A smoothie,” was the answer he settled on for lack of a better one. He could swear he saw his mentor’s blood pressure go up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I mean-” he sighed, covering his now slightly red face. He tugged at his collar. Malcolm still didn't get the hint. “The… hickeys.” Malcolm felt his face heat up. Oh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, I just-” he tugged his scarf higher, trying to conceal the marks and silently cursing Sam. Gil sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just tell Sam not to leave any more marks where I can see them- otherwise, he'll have to deal with a few himself. And not the fun kind." With his threat effectively delivered Gil made his escape, muttering about Malcolm causing him more stress than his job. Malcolm watched him go and sighed. Great. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This fic was inspired by my lovely mother, who is always ready to throw down with anybody. I could see Gil doing the same- even if that somebody is a 6'5 wall of muscle. Gil's threat is almost a direct quote from her, lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Case of Sam's Missing Boyfriend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sometimes Sam felt like he was always running around after his boyfriend, doing damage control for the chaos he left in his wake. That’s why when he showed up to Malcolm’s loft and the younger man was absent, he panicked a little. He called Malcolm, which yielded no results. Next, he called around to anyone who might know where he was. No one could tell him. It was concerning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam could admit that he was worried <em>and</em> that he might be slightly overreacting. Malcolm was his own person entitled to his own life. Unfortunately, he had the bad habit of putting himself in danger without letting anyone know about it. That’s how Sam found himself using the ‘find my phone’ app that Malcolm had agreed to get. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flummoxed, Sam stared up at the old building in front of him. It was an abandoned theatre. He couldn't figure out what, exactly, would bring Malcolm here. His anxiety kicked up a notch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doors were unlocked when he pulled on the handles. They protested loudly when he opened them, groaning on their ancient hinges. The wood floor beneath his boots was sturdy and didn't creak the way he had expected. There was classical music playing from somewhere in the distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crept forward, unwilling to make his presence known until he could assess the situation. It was a small building with only one theatre. That was where the music was coming from. He moved closer to the doors, one of which was left slightly ajar. His brain froze when he peeked into the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malcolm stood on the stage under the spotlight. There was no one but him, and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dancing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His movements were graceful and familiar. Sam’s breath was stolen by the sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>beauty</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the man in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam stepped fully into the room and shut the door gently behind him. He watched as Malcolm twirled and leaped across the stage. There were plenty of open seats, but he didn't take one, content to watch from where he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malcolm went still when the music ended. They both stood there in the sudden silence for a long moment, Malcolm still catching his breath. Slowly, Sam began to applaud. Malcolm jumped at the sudden noise. His eyes darted around the room until they landed on Sam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Sam called in case Malcolm couldn't see him past the spotlight. He approached the stage as Malcolm hopped down from it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What- uh, what are you doing here?” Malcolm asked, rubbing the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking for you. Thought you might have gotten yourself into trouble again,” Sam said easily. Malcolm blinked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he said. “I must have lost track of time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you had good reason,” Sam commented, wrapping his arms around Malcolm’s waist. “That was just breathtaking.” Malcolm’s face turned an even darker shade of red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn't-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was,” Sam cut off what was sure to be a self-deprecating comment. “But I’m sorry for barging in on you like that. I was worried.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Malcolm assured him with a half-smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, after that performance you’ve gotta be hungry,” Sam said. “Lunch?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With you?” Malcolm murmured affectionately. “Any time.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is a prompt fill I think (I don't remember who requested it or when lol). While I was looking for the comment that inspired this, I found myself reading through my replies to comments. I would just like to say that I am absolutely obtuse sometimes and I appreciate that none of you have put me on blast for my dumbass replies ashsfhdhjs. Someone asked me where Malcolm got his tattoo; I said smth to the effect of "Probably just some random shop, lol". I now realize that you meant where on his body, my dear commenter. Anyways, thank you for reading, commenting, and/or leaving kudos!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys, I'm back on my bullshit earlier than expected! Due to COVID-19, the play (Fiddler on the Roof) that my troupe and I have been working on for nearly four months has been postponed until further notice the night before we opened. All spring sports have also been canceled, so no soccer either. It SUCKS and I'm super mad about it, but at least I'll have more time to write :).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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